Two hours passed.
The steam from the post-game showers had faded, replaced by the cold air of reality settling over the locker room. The scent of soap, sweat, and the metallic tang of Gatorade bottles lingered in the air. Damp towels lay piled in corners, the echo of earlier laughter slowly dissolving into quiet exhaustion.
Marcus slid on his hoodie, rolling his shoulders as if trying to release the last traces of tension. Yuuto tightened the straps of his bag, hair still wet, droplets clinging to his forehead like tiny crystals. The other boys moved sluggishly, worn out but still high off the adrenaline of their win.
The room was dim now the overhead light humming, flickering slightly.
Then Marcus's phone buzzed.
Arisa: "Bus outside. Coach waiting. Hurry."
He exhaled and shoved the phone into his pocket.
"Let's go," he said, pushing open the locker room door.
